He casts out a paw. . .to catch a moonbeam. Hungry for all creation, ravenous actually, in his green bower, his temple of plants and insects, sky and water, all sewn together with pine needles and mosses soft enough for a baby.
Ah, to be a babe in the woods again and hear the running stream and do nothing all day but follow nature’s lead through the undergrowth, dancing in light shafts and inhaling great gusts of green nectar.
Ravenous am I.
When I saw the National Geographic article on the white Spirit Bears of British Columbia I felt this overwhelming longing. Perhaps it was the picture of the bear, like my old Teddy, seated in his so very green bed, ready for his afternoon nap.
So when we did the lesson where we made sanctuaries/temples/homes in the Tuesday Muse Group my choice was simple. Then I wrote “to be a babe in the woods again”, meaning I guess that some integral part of me remembers pretending to be an animal in the woods and forgetting for a while that mother would be calling me in to dinner.
There were the monkey vines over the creek behind our house in Maryland where we would swing from bank to bank making monkey sounds. And then there was the woods behind the house in Connecticut where we would poke around until we found the little Jack in the Pulpits, imagining fairies inside, and pretend we were wild foxes and wouldn’t have to go back into a house again.
What am I doing sitting here at my computer still?! I need to get outside!